


That Time of the Month

by raspberrymocha



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Draconian Noctis, Dragon Noctis, Dragons are Intersex, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, M/M, References to Menstruation, because I say so, kind of, this is so gross I’m sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrymocha/pseuds/raspberrymocha
Summary: Prompto always knew that Noctis’s connection to the Draconian had an effect on the prince’s body. He just didn’t know exactly how far that extended.





	That Time of the Month

**Author's Note:**

> I’m definitely going to hell for this one, you guys.

Prompto leans on the door of the Regalia, feeling the warm, summer air on his face. They’re driving without any real destination in mind, just the knowledge that they have to keep moving. On quiet days like this, it’s almost like nothing happened at all, like they’re just a bunch of friends on an epic road trip across the country.

Then Noctis gives a startled yelp. Prompto can’t see what’s happening, but he hears the impact of Noct slamming into the back of Ignis’s seat, without the brakes being slammed on or anything. Prompto swivels in his seat to check things out, but the only thing that seems to be wrong is that Noct’s hood fell down.

It’s no secret that their special bond with the Draconian has had certain effects on the bodies of the Lucis Caelums. Still, it never ceases to amaze Prompto whenever he sees the long, dark horns curving out of Noctis’s head. After all, through the years, the bloodline has become diluted, and some of their more draconic features have disappeared entirely. Supposedly, King Regis had only two little stumps of horns, that a young Noctis delighted in tugging on.

Noctis is special, though – the Chosen King, the most dragon-like one they’ve had in centuries, with claws and fangs and patches of scales dotting his face. Prompto suspects that there are more scales across his body, but if there are, that’s a secret between him and Ignis.

“Ignis!” He cries out. “Ignis, we need to pull over now!”

At that, Ignis does actually slam on the brakes, and it’s only by bracing himself against the dashboard that Prompto doesn’t go flying.

“What is it? Imperials?” There’s Gladio, ready to fight an invisible threat, as always.

“No, it’s-“ Noctis cuts himself off, glancing sideways at Prompto.

“Noct?”

“It’s that time again.” His face is red, all the way up to the tips of his ears.

Gladio goes a little green. It’s a not look Prompto’s used to seeing on the big, tough Shield. “Ah, jeez.”

“Ah.” Is all Ignis says, before guiding the car to the side of the road. “Let us make camp, then.”

“Seriously? I was hoping we could sleep in real beds tonight.” Prompto whines, but drags himself out the car, anyway.

Ignis looks at him like he’s just said something stupid. “Trust me, you don’t want this to happen on hotel sheets.”

Prompto wants to ask what he’s talking about, but Ignis has already turned his attention back to Noct. He allows Noct to lean on him as they walks toward where a haven is marked on their map. The whole time Noctis groans, and Prompto catches him rubbing his stomach periodically. Maybe he ate something bad? (Also, is it just him, or does the prince look a little rounder around the middle?)

When they reach the haven, Gladio is quick to start setting up the tent, and barks at Prompto to help. It takes them twice as long, considering the other two are still preoccupied, but they manage. They’re just finishing up when Noctis gives a high-pitched wail of distress.

“I think it’s coming!”

“Honestly,” Ignis sighs. “Why didn’t you tell us this was happening sooner?”

Prompto feels Noct’s gaze on him again, but when he looks the prince is staring at the ground. “I don’t know.”

Ignis shakes his head, but pulls him along, through the opening of the tent. Prompto moves to join them – he should be there to help, right? – but Ignis cuts him off.

“Noct prefers privacy during this. I’m sure you can understand.”

As he disappears into the tent, Prompto thinks he can see Noctis shrugging out of his jacket behind him. For a moment, he and Gladio both stand there, looking at the spot where their friends used to be. Prompto, feeling bewildered by the whole thing, and Gladio, looking like he’s going to be sick.

“Well,” He says finally, turning in his heel. “I’m gonna… go guard the perimeter. Yeah.”

That leaves Prompto all alone, rooted to the spot, and trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. Something is wrong with Noctis, that much is clear. Since there isn’t any external force threatening their lives at this exact moment, it has to be something internal. Noctis doesn’t seem to be injured, but he’s definitely in pain. Is he sick? But then, his words earlier implied that this is something that just happens to him.

He thinks back to their days at school. Noctis was absent frequently for what was eloquently described as “royal stuff”, but Prompto wonders if maybe he misread the situation. Maybe he’s been sick for a while, and just didn’t want to tell anyone. Of course, as his protectors, Ignis and Gladio would know, but who is Prompto, really, to know any royal secrets?

Then again, the others had acted like he was supposed to know, so maybe it’s all just on his head. He thinks himself in circles, trying to figure out what’s going on, and where he plays into all this. He’s just beginning to wonder if this is actually an elaborate scheme for Noctis and Ignis to get some “alone time”, when a cry has him throwing open the tent flaps before he has time to rethink it.

The scene that greets him is perhaps the most bizarre thing he’s ever seen. Noctis is laying on one of the cots, totally naked. His legs are spread wide, exposing his soft cock, and below that is something that shouldn’t be there. Something that has Prompto’s brain short-circuiting as he tries to process it. Noctis’s asshole is stretched wide and open around a black object. It’s shiny and smooth and Prompto knows exactly what it is even as his brain refuses to acknowledge it.

“Get out!” Noctis roars, baring his fangs.

In an instant, Ignis is up from where he was perched next to his prince, and shoving Prompto out the door. “I did tell you to give him privacy.” He says, but it barely registers.

“Ignis.” Prompto says, because it’s all he can manage. “Noct- He-“

“Yes?” He asks, and gods damn it all, how can he look so calm about this? (Because he’s done this before, his brain helpfully supplies.)

“Noct is laying an egg!” He blurts out, louder than he probably should.

“Yes? He’ll probably lay at least a few before the day is over. Did… Noct not explain that to you?”

“No?”

Ignis’s confusion melts away into frustration as he rubs at his eyes under his glasses. “I told him to tell you before we left. Look, it’s rather simple, really. You know how Noct’s family has certain dragon traits?” Prompto nods numbly. “Well, it seems that extends to their reproductive organs.”

“But Noct’s a dude!”

“Yes, well. It seems that our human concept of gender doesn’t really apply to dragons.” Ignis slides his glasses off his face, and wipes at them with a rag, even though they’re probably already spotless.

“So, what? Are you trying to tell me you knocked him up?” He asks, feeling more than a little hysterical, because the things he’s saying just don’t make sense.

There’s a snap, and when Prompto looks down, he sees that an entire lens is missing from Ignis’s glasses. “Oh, bother.” He mutters. “Noct isn’t _pregnant_. It’s… Are you familiar with how the menstrual cycle works?”

“Sorta? I mean, I took the same health class as everyone else.”

Ignis wrinkles his nose. “It’s like that. Noct’s body is simply disposing of the unfertilized eggs.”

Prompto is quiet for a moment as he absorbs this information. Laid out like that, it does actually make sense, in a really twisted way. “…But the eggs could be fertilized?”

“Prompto,” Ignis says, as he pops the lens back into place. “Where exactly do you think Noct came from?”

“Queen Aulea…”

“Was a very patient and understanding woman, or so I’m told. Lucian tradition states that a true heir to the throne must be born in the dragon way.”

Okay, so Noct 100% came out of an egg. Good to know. He still has, like, 1000 more questions though. They’re not all about eggs, but each one is more inappropriate than the last.

“Ignis!” Noct cries out, saving him the embarrassment of blurting out something that can never be unsaid.

He can’t call the situation fortunate, though – not when they push back the flaps to find their prince sobbing. He’s sitting upright, braced against his hands as fat tears roll down his cheeks. Between his legs, there are already two eggs, approximately the size and shape of footballs, covered in blood and mucus and other things that Prompto doesn’t want to consider.

“It’s stuck!” Noctis wails. A third egg bulges against his red and abused rim. As Prompto watches – and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away – he can see the muscles contract, but the thing stubbornly refuses to budge.

“Oh, dear.” Ignis pulls off his gloves ominously. “Prompto, I may require your assistance.”

Noctis jumps, as though just realizing Prompto is here. “Wait, no. Don’t-“

It hurts a little that Noct doesn’t want him here, in his time of need. What are friends for, if not to rely on during your weird dragon period?

“Come now, Highness. You must realize there’s no sense in hiding it anymore.” When he doesn’t argue further, Ignis proceeds as if he had never spoken at all. “Prompto. Please come sit behind Noct and support him.”

Prompto eyes the scene warily. Being relied upon is all well and good, but he can’t help the churning in his stomach as he watches Noct’s body bear down on the object still lodged in it. Still, he swallows down his disgust, and does as Ignis asks, because he’s a good fucking friend. Noct groans as Prompto moves his limp body until they’re back to chest.

Noct whimpers as Ignis comes to kneel next to them. He rubs soothing circles on the prince’s swollen belly, which Prompto supposes must help somehow. There’s a gross squelching noise between Noct’s grunts that he resolves to ignore, and liquid dribbles onto the ground. From this angle Prompto can’t very well see what’s going on – a blessing, really – but it’s obvious the damn thing still isn’t moving.

“It’s too big! I can’t-“

“You can.” Ignis says firmly.

With his hands on Noct’s hips, he pulls the prince up into a kneeling position, and Prompto follows suit. Like this, he really does look like an animal, squatting to lay its eggs. In front of them, Ignis ducks down, bringing a hand between Noct’s legs. Prompto can’t see what he’s doing, but he doesn’t want to know, either.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Noctis whimpers. “It’s coming!”

There’s a thump as the egg hits the ground. When Prompto dares to peek down, the shiny black shell is still perfectly intact. Dragon eggs must be a little tougher than chocobo eggs.

Noctis sighs, going limp in his arms. “Is it…?”

“It’s out.” Ignis rubs at his stomach. At first, he seems to be doing it absentmindedly, but Prompto quickly realizes that he’s feeling to see if there are anymore eggs in there. “Do you think you’re done?”

“Physically or emotionally?”

Ignis rolls his eyes, but otherwise seems satisfied with the answer. He reaches out and takes Noctis from Prompto, cradling the exhausted prince in his arms. He doesn’t seem to care that Noctis is covered in blood and sweat and other unsavory things.

With bleary eyes, Noctis looks out to assess the carnage and frowns. It easy to see why – the third egg is nearly as large as the other two combined. It’s no wonder he had so much trouble with it. Prompto certainly can’t imagine pushing something like that out of his body.

“Do they always get that big?” He asks, out of both morbid curiosity and concern for his friend.

Noctis and Ignis are both quiet for a long time, then: “No. Never.”


End file.
